Pretty Man Walking down the Street
by Regal Baring
Summary: In a remake of Pretty Woman, it involves Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in a romance story full of Money, Power, Love, and Tenderness. (HPDM, sexual content, HumorDramaRomance, and low agnst lvl)
1. The Street Corner

Title: Pretty Man (Walking down the Street)

Email: MyzticBeanaol.com

Name: SMalfoy

Pairings: HP/DM

Spoilers: Pretty Woman

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters (J.K Rowlings does), nor do I own any rights to the most of the ideas presented in this fan fic.  
  
**NOTE:** This is a scenario of AU (alternate universe), where Harry does not have any special wizarding powers (that we know of YET), and thus knows nothing of the evils of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It also follows along the plot movie Pretty Woman. I would also like to point out I got the idea from another author, and wanted to expand upon her ideas in the story because it inspired me to do so. _Hogwarts Dropout_ (on fanfic.net)  
  
I would like to credit her with the idea of using the movie, but would also like to reinforce that these are also my own ideas added to the stories, and I have not copied any of her ideas.  
  
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**Chapter 1  
**  
_The Street Corner_  
  
Distantly hearing the thud of the angry landlord, Harry hastily applied the final touches of mascara and lip-gloss to his lips before making his way to the bathroom.  
  
Dipping his hand into the tank of water in the toilet bowl, he searched frantically for the tiny green box containing this month's rent. Sighing in relief, he flipped it open before groaning in disgust and disbelief.  
  
"Seamus! I'll kill him," he promised himself, flinging the empty box away from him. Glancing at the mirror, he checked to make sure his dark hair with frosted blonde tips was perfectly in place – causally mussed and spiked - before tiptoeing to the entrance to the shabby apartment. Cracking the door open, he listened briefly for the irate landlord.  
  
The wall shook briefly as his victim was slammed up against the wall. "I want my damn money! It was due four days ago, and if I don't get it soon, you'll be getting an eviction notice and a kick in the arse!" the man cried. His victim could only whimper in reply, and taking it for agreement, walked away with an angry hitch in his gait.  
  
Deciding it wasn't safe to go out into the hallway while he didn't have any rent money for his landlord, he decided it was easier to shimmy down the fire escape to leave.  
  
"Damn Seamus for making me have to do this. He knew we needed the money for rent. What is wrong with that stupid boy?" Harry cried, careful not to wiggle much for fear of displacing the temperamental skirt that rode high on his thighs.  
  
Still muttering to himself in dismay, he was careful not to smudge the newly repainted vinyl boots and to keep his skirt at an acceptable level, he made his way down from the second floor, barely escaping with his life.  
  
Ignoring the wolf whistles that were aimed his way, he put the sway into his walk Seamus had taught him and made his way carefully down the L.A sidewalk.  
  
--------------------  
  
After years of living in such a tenuous lifestyle, one would think Harry would be used to such nerve-wracking nightlife in Hollywood, California. It was not the city, or country for that matter, which Harry would have chosen to live in, but had heard it said it was the best area for earning quick cash.  
  
Harry had lived in Surrey for most of his life with his extended family, the Dursleys, until he became of age. Then, rudely thrown out of the house to the mocking laughter of his 'family', he was on his own.  
  
_Though relatively good in school, I've never had much luck in anything_, Harry reflected as he continued on his way down the street. _It hadn't helped I only got to the eleventh grade_. School had been easy, but he knew he had no chance of going to a university. So he had been stuck in a fast growing world where family prestige and a college degree meant survival, and he didn't have a hope in hell to have either of them.  
  
Knowing he hadn't a chance to do much in the academic world, he had resorted to drugs, alcohol, and the wrong kind of friends. He sniffled, and trying to forget the past, he concentrated on studying his carefully buffed and painted nails. The only thing he had ever been complimented upon was his ability to fake pleasure while getting abused from some disgusting slob in payment to a pimp. The result of Harry's unpleasant addiction to drugs at a young age was an increase in the amount of debts to be paid, and even after it was paid he was not freed from his makeshift prison.  
  
His only resort had been to run, and to run as far as possible, quitting the drug habit, and start a new life.  
  
_And the bastard had still found me_, a depressed Harry had realized shortly after hitchhiking to Liverpool._ I only barely escaped by the skin of my-  
_  
The train of thought was cut off when a car swerved into the lane closest to Harry, and a drunken male leaned out of the car window to solicit him for a freebee on his birthday.  
  
"Dream on!" Harry shouted, and continued on his way, ignoring the derogatory curses behind him.  
  
He looked around briefly before realizing where he was, and knew it would only be a few more minutes before he arrived at the club. Continuing his train of thought, he suspected, _From then on it had only been a matter of time before they found me and killed me.  
_  
Only now, since becoming involved with Seamus, another British former citizen with a background he wouldn't share, now Harry, though still involved in hooking, could say who, when, and how much. Not that he had much of a choice in the first place anyways – they always needed money.  
  
--------------------  
  
Carefully making his way into the bar Seamus frequented, Harry was extremely conspicuous of how he was dressed. Seamus had helped him purchase cheap, inexpensive clothing that looked good draped off of his body or clinging tightly in places Harry would never have considered wearing in public before.  
  
Tonight he was dressed in a tight blue skirt, black boots that felt like plastic and were just as uncomfortable, and a white chambray shirt rolled up at the forearms and unbuttoned to this navel. The only thing holding the shirt together in the front, in fact, was the knotted ends trailing down his smoothly tanned and hairless chest. His body frame was lean with well-formed muscles trained to keep him safe when confronted with an angry customer. He held a large maroon bag slung across his shoulder an anchored at his hip – it was his form of life support, he supposed. Inside was all the necessities needed in his line of work - toys, protection, and a change of clothing.  
  
His boyish looks had done well for him in this line of profession, and he had felt the need to catapult on any skill he could find within himself. His black hair was frosted at the tips to a bleached blonde – thanks to Seamus - and lashes a woman would kill for fringed his deep green eyes. To bring out the intense color of his eyes, he outlined them with kohl eyeliner and mascara to lengthen and separate his soft, baby-fine eyelashes. At least, that's what the advertisements explained, but really, it was just annoying when it got into his eyes and screwed with his contacts.  
  
His lips were smooth, painted only with gloss, and almost cupid bow in their perfection. He was told once he had brought a man to orgasm just by speaking to him, while he watched his mouth move. His chin was strong, shapely, and sharply defined, giving him an elegant, chiseled face.  
  
Looking around, he found Seamus lounging in the upper corner with their pimp, snorting cocaine with a joint in her hand.  
  
"Seamus!" Harry cried, walking over quickly and grabbing his friend's arm. "What in the hell did you do with the rent money?" he snarled.  
  
"Harry, you know Carlos and -" Seamus started to say, trying to advert his attention elsewhere.  
  
"Yes, Seamus, I know everyone. What I don't know is what happened to our damn rent money!"  
  
"I needed a little pick-me-up," Seamus whined, rocking unsteadily on his feet.  
  
Harry, with eyes darkened by disappointment, studied his friend intently. His brown eyes were shaded by the intense high he was on, pupils dilated almost painfully, and his mouth set in a stupid grin.  
  
Seamus stood quietly under Harry's gaze, his head bowed as he looked frightfully down at his feet encased in black heels. His own sandy hair was slicked back away from his face, and makeup carefully applied to hide the bruise marks from last night's customers. He dressed in a black miniskirt and sleeveless leopard top stretched across this thin frame.  
  
"How could you do that Seamus?" Harry whispered, distraught. "We needed that money for rent, not to mention trying to save up enough for both of us to be free."  
  
"Yea, well, I doubt that will happen any time soon, so I wouldn't hold your breath," Seamus muttered before grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him to the bar.  
  
Picking out fruit and a couple of cherries and deftly slipping it into a napkin, he reported the news.  
  
"Well, in the alley they found Skinny Marie in a dumpster today. Totally a coke addict, they'd been trying to get her straight for months! Too bad it didn't work though," Seamus said sorrowfully.  
  
Harry said little, but thought to himself he could sympathize with the woman.  
  
While they left the bars to reprimands of the bartender, they walked outside to find another hooker at their usual spot.  
  
"Oh no, oh no," Seamus trilled, walking stealthily towards the boy standing at the corner. He wore a long, dark brunette wig and held a cigarette in his hand. He was an average looking man, Harry summed, but wore too much makeup to hide his flaws, making them even more conspicuous. Harry noted he had an awful skin condition.  
  
"Hey, you two were here last night, and tonight is my night," he smirked, taking a deep drag from his cigarette.  
  
"What?" Seamus shrieked, and since he seemed liable to attack the boy, Harry held a restraining hand on his arm.  
  
"Now don't get yourself worked up Seam, we can always go somewhere else," Harry murmured soothingly.  
  
"Yea, why don't you and your little newbie friend find somewhere else," the boy returned snottily.  
  
"Excuse me, but we worked our stars fair and square," Seamus cried and proceeded to name off the star squares they had recently hooked at, before claiming triumphantly crowing, "and so, it's our turn today!"  
  
"I was just taking a rest," the boy turned and, with that said, strutted away, grinning at the infuriated look on Seamus' face.  
  
Harry snorted behind him, and turned a smile to Seamus.  
  
"You know, you would be far more suited to be a lawyer than a hooker with such an argumentative nature like that," Harry laughed, a giggle that turned passerby's heads with automatic smiles for such a sweet sound.  
  
"You know it sugar," Seamus smiled, hooking his arms though his and angling his leg out attractively.


	2. The Party

Title: Pretty Man (Walking down the Street)  
  
Name: SMalfoy  
  
Pairings: HP/DM  
  
Spoilers: Pretty Woman  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters (J.K Rowling does), nor do I own any rights to the most of the ideas presented in this fan fic.  
  
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**Chapter 2**  
  
_The Party_  
  
Draco Malfoy, a firewhiskey in one hand, and a wizard Spell Safe cell phone in the other, stood at the window overlooking the party below. His handsome face sneered at the petty Death Eaters' society circles located below before returning to his call. He spoke succinctly before briefly hanging up the phone, and turning his sleek blonde head, he lowered his face to look at the short, round man at his side.  
  
"Ah, Pettigrew. How's the party?" Draco asked politely before sipping his drink slowly and surveying the crowd below.  
  
"Wonderful as always," Pettigrew replied easily, a smirk on his round face slightly unpleasant. "You mother just arrived with her new boyfriend as well."  
  
"How young this time?" Draco questioned cynically.  
  
"Younger than you of course," Pettigrew replied with a short laugh.  
  
"Of course, of course," Draco said, shrugging in indifference. "Well, I need to be leaving anyways. I have to finish up some papers on the shipyard take over, and some more phone calls to make."  
  
"Oh but you can't leave yet!" Pettigrew stated grumpily. "The party's just begun."  
  
"Well, if you don't want to make more money today..." Draco trailed off, raising a pale silver eyebrow in question.  
  
Pettigrew suddenly burst into smiles. "Well of course, if work calls..."  
  
Draco nodded shortly. _Yes, I thought you might say that, you twit._  
  
Setting his drink down on a nearby table, he treaded softly downstairs with Pettigrew fast on his heels, almost salivating at the idea of the money Malfoy would be making him with the upcoming take over.  
  
Pansy, spotting Draco descending the stairs, made an immediate beeline for him, forcefully pushing women out of her way if they so happened to step in front of her.  
  
"Draco!" she cried gaily, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a wet kiss to his cheek. Turning to give her a cold, slightly indignant look, she stepped back hastily before saying, "It's been ages since I've seen you."  
  
"Yes, Ms. Parkinson, it has for a reason." Malfoy said frostily.  
  
"You're not still fed up about my engagement are you honey? Because really-"  
  
"Actually I couldn't be happier about your engagement, as it lets me off the hook of having to publicly reject you," Draco said silkily before turning away from her horror struck face. Without another word he glided towards the opposite adjoining room. Pettigrew snickered in amusement before following Malfoy, and sat on a couch to wait for his interview to be over.  
  
He knocked respectfully on the door, paused, and waited until hearing the door unlock and the command to 'Enter!"  
  
"Master," Draco said quietly, bowing at the waist before kneeling before Voldemort.  
  
"Ah, young Draco. How are you enjoying the party?" Voldemort asked in vague amusement.  
  
"Perfectly well," he responded, silver head still bowed before the sitting figure of his Master. Feeling a light touch of thin, cold fingers in his soft hair he raised his head slowly to smile slightly into the red, glaring eyes.  
  
"How is the take over coming along?" Voldemort asked suddenly, forgoing the usual pleasantries.  
  
"Very well," Draco replied, a smug smile on his face. "It will only be a matter of months, if even that, before I have Snape backed into the corner to sell. As it is, he is already becoming extremely worried."  
  
"Good work," Voldemort purred, his hand still in Draco's hair as he knelt before him on the thick, creamy carpet. "Soon we will be powerful enough to return to Britain with no problem."  
  
With no change in his expression, Draco thought to himself, _No, I will be powerful enough. You will merely be tagging along behind._  
  
"Yes, Master," Draco decided to answer simply.  
  
"Are you going to stay at the party?" Voldemort questioned after a silent moment of contemplation.  
  
"No, Master, I have other work that needs to be done, and I will be checking into the hotel after I leave. If that is permissible?"  
  
"Yes, of course, my excellent young Malfoy. You are excused." With that said, and a wave of his hand, Voldemort turned his attention away from Draco and on the young, nubile boy sitting chained and naked at his at his feet.  
  
Draco rose, and with a shallow boy, turned and walked out of the room, ignoring the boy's high squeal as he shut the door.  
  
Draco nodded to Pettigrew to walk him out, and weaving his way, avoided small talk by looking slightly above the heads of his peers. Exiting the lavish apartment of Pettigrew, he nodded to the doorman to open the glass doors.  
  
"What did the Master say?" Pettigrew questioned eagerly as the door shut behind them.  
  
"What I already know," Draco replied shortly, looking for his black limo parked somewhere in the vicinity.  
  
Pettigrew chuckled merrily. "Everything is going so well," he said gleefully.  
  
"Of course, did you expect me to do any less?" Draco asked dryly.  
  
"Oh, no, never, of course not," Pettigrew hastened to reply, almost stuttering in his nervousness.  
  
Draco spotted his limo stuck behind a pile of parked cars, and the limo driver shrugged helplessly. "Damnit," he groaned. Then he turned to Pettigrew and demanded, "Loan me your car so I can get to the hotel."  
  
"What?" Pettigrew said, scandalized. "Not my new baby!"  
  
"I need it to get to the hotel, and you can have it back afterwards," he reassured, impatient.  
  
"Well..." he hesitated, "do you know how to drive a stick shift?"  
  
"Just give me the damn keys," Draco ordered.  
  
Pettigrew immediately tossed to keys to him. "So you know how to use a stick?"  
  
"Well, I can always learn."  
  
Pettigrew paled considerably, but Draco missed it as he hopped into the car, started the purring engine, and roared off with a squeal of tires.  
  
-------------------  
  
"Hm, tonight is kinda slow," Harry murmured, slightly pleased at the idea of a free night, and disappointed at no income. Hooking was not a regular paying job at all.  
  
"I know..." Seamus trailed off, blowing a kiss at a handsome passerby, and smiled flirtatiously when he glanced back to eye him appreciatively. Which turned into stunned amazement as he stopped, turned back, and ran his gaze up and down Harry's lavishly displayed figure.  
  
"No less than one hundred," Seamus whispered, slightly envious, but willing to give Harry up to the greater cause of money making.  
  
Harry nodded slightly to show he heard, and walked with swaying hips towards the prospective customer.  
  
"Hey hunny, looking for a good time?" Harry purred, his jeweled fingers touching his lips in a suggestive manner.  
  
"Depends on what it entails, and how much" the handsome dark-red haired man responded.  
  
"Anything you want, and $100 an hour," he responded promptly.  
  
"Ouch, sorry, don't have that kind of cash right now," the man said sorrowfully. "Hopefully another time."  
  
"Sure, next time." Harry said softly, and walked back towards Seamus with a downtrodden expression.  
  
"He would have been a nice one," Harry muttered to Seamus. By nice of course, he meant he wouldn't have gotten abused as much as he normally would.  
  
"Next one can be yours," Seamus said, patting Harry's back consolingly.  
  
At that moment a squealing of tires and a crunching of shifting filled the air as an extremely expensive car pulled next to the curb.  
  
"Oo, here's your chance Harry," Seamus said with a smile, pushing Harry forward with a hip. "Remember, no less than one hundred, call me when you're through and I'll take care of you," and with a wink walked forward to another car that had pulled up.  
  
Leaning down to look into the open window, Harry was shocked at the amazingly handsome blonde in the driver's seat with an amazingly confused look on his face.  
  
"Need some help hunny?" Harry asked, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.  
  
Draco looked up at the tentative voice, and for once his composure slipped in as long a time as he could remember. Certainly not since he had started working for Voldemort. He was looking into the purest green eyes he had ever seen surrounded by deep black lashes and a mouth, he guessed (and subconsciously hoped), that had the ability to suck a man dry in ten minutes flat.  
  
"Uh..." he stumbled slightly before regaining his mask. "I seem to be a little lost," he replied, his accent influenced by the frustration his felt.  
  
Harry's own accent had been dulled down since moving to the United States, so that it was soothing blend of lilting British and the drawl of Americans.  
  
"For twenty bucks I can take you anywhere you want to go." Harry replied slyly.  
  
"Twenty bucks?! For directions?"  
  
"Take it or leave it hunny, I'm not the one who's lost." And with that Harry turned his back to the blonde driver, exposing the soft swell of his smooth lower back.  
  
Taking a deep breath, and exhaling on pure frustration, he nodded and replied, "Fine, get in the car."  
  
Turning with a grin, Harry said, "Well this is your lucky day, and I can even show you celebrity houses along the way. Where are you off to?"  
  
Draco named the hotel and street, and with a soft voice giving directions in the passenger side, they were off.  
  
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A/N: I know everything is not like it is in the movie, but I like my own touches added to it :-). Many more chapters coming, I just want to see if anyone likes it or has anything to say. Reviews always desired! 


	3. The Car Ride

Title: Pretty Man (Walking down the Street)  
  
Name: SMalfoy  
  
Pairings: HP/DM  
  
Spoilers: Pretty Woman  
  
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, and never will be mine. I am only borrowing them from JK Rowlings. A lot of the plot is from Pretty Woman as well, with added scenes and dialogue from myself to fit a Harry Potter slash fic.  
  
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**Chapter 3**  
  
_The Car Ride_  
  
The maroon bag Harry had slung into the car hurriedly thumped at his feet every time they took a fast curve, pinching the skin of his calf. Wincing slightly, he shifted the unwieldy bag briefly before giving it up as a lost cause.  
  
"You know, you really should stop stripping the gears like that. It's awful for the car," Harry remarked as they sped down the street with an odd crunching sound every now and then.  
  
"Well, seeing as how I've never even driven a stick shift, I'm surprised I got this far," Draco replied smoothly, a tinge of embarrassment in his tone.  
  
"Ah." Harry remained silent for a moment, and then asked to fill the silence, "So what's your name?"  
  
"Draco Malfoy," the blonde replied, his hard eyes peering straight ahead into the darkness.  
  
"Can I call ya Drac-y?" Harry asked impishly.  
  
"No."  
  
"Can I call ya Drac?" He asked again, this time wheedling.  
  
"No. Only Draco, or Mr. Malfoy."  
  
"Ah, well, that's no fun," Harry pouted briefly, before saying, "Turn right here."  
  
They were silent for a moment before Harry said, "Hey, that's Stallone's house over there."  
  
Draco didn't even spare the house a glance, instead peeking at the boy beside him. _He really was a pretty young thing_, Draco decided. _I can't even imagine how he's survived this long out on the street.  
_  
"What's your name?" he asked, instead of the questions of his profession roiling around inside of him.  
  
"Harry Potter," he replied, holding out his hand to shake. Of course, with both of Dracos' hands on the wheel, he didn't bother extending the courtesy.  
  
Harry let his hand drop back, slightly embarrassed and grumpy. _So he's going to be one of those customers_, he sighed. _Why do I always get stuck with them? Seamus always has a good time with his.  
_  
Harry decided it was best just to let the silence extend, only breaking it when giving his driver directions.  
  
"You know, you really should be more careful-" Harry began but was cut off as they swerved to the side.  
  
"You want to drive?" Draco asked, slightly testy.  
  
"Well, now that you mention it, I will if you want," Harry said, grinning cheekily.  
  
Draco eyed the boy for a moment before getting out and causally holding open the door for the squealing boy.  
  
"Oh man. I'm going to show you what this thing can do!" Harry cried. "Are you ready?" he asked, his fingers flexing on the wheel.  
  
"I'm ready," Draco replied dryly.  
  
"Hold on."  
  
"Ok."  
  
With a squeal of the tires, they roared off down the street.  
  
--------------------  
  
Finally, they arrived in front of a posh, extremely discomforting hotel. Harry winced when he stepped out of the car and the doorman looked his way briefly before centering his gaze on Mr. Malfoy. His hand was at the ready, a beck and call away from jumping to attention.  
  
"Well, here you are Mr. Malfoy," Harry said, again holding his hand out to shake and Draco emerged from the car and they both moved around to stand in front of the entrance.  
  
_I wonder why I miss Draco instead_, Draco wondered, before realizing the courtesy extended towards him.  
  
He grasped it briefly and gave it a singe tug before letting go, but not before Harry had a chance to feel a smooth, cool palm glide against his own. It made him shiver deliciously, which surprised Harry in that he had not felt anything like this stimulation in a very long time. _Not since I've started hooking, in fact_.  
  
"Well, here's the twenty I promised," Draco said, trying to ignore the leftover warmth in his palm, absently rubbing it down his shirt.  
  
Harry took that as a sign of disgust, and huffed, turning away from Draco's slightly puzzled stance. He stuck the twenty dollar bill he had grabbed in his maroon bag that was strapped across his shoulder and planted firmly at his hip.  
  
Harry sauntered away a few feet to sit on the bench locating a bus stop, and put his feet upon the seat to sit upon the back of the bench. He arranged the bag across his lap under the watchful eye of the handsome Mr. Malfoy, trying desperately to control his body's reaction of his gaze. _Why do those gray eyes of his have to be so mesmerizing?_ Harry groaned inwardly.  
  
It didn't help that his hard, strong body - clearly outlined in his expensive suit that would have cost more than two months of his rent – stood with an arrogance that Harry had never been able to resist in his partners.  
  
_Oh, please go somewhere else_, Harry moaned silently.  
  
Draco was surprised when the boy strolled away to sit on the bench, trying not to feel a tug of protection instincts that were getting harder to control by the second.  
  
He walked closer to the young man, lowering his voice so that the watchful doorman couldn't hear the exchange.  
  
"Don't you have any place to go?" Draco questioned quietly.  
  
"I will after I get off the bus," Harry replied stiltedly. _What, do I look like I need your pity?_ he asked silently, a flush present on his cheeks.  
  
"I could call a cab for you," Draco offered, wondering as he did why he even bothered the poor git.  
  
"Yea, and there would go my twenty bucks for the night. No thanks, I'll wait for the bus."  
  
"The bus is no longer running tonight," the doorman called out, admitting to his eavesdropping. Draco turned, and looked coldly at the man.  
  
"When I want your interference, I will ask for it," he said, his gaze boring into the man, making him shrink back and whimper. The man nodded, and lowered his eyes.  
  
Harry watched the proceedings with a small smile. "You really have a way with the minions," he said softly, his green eyes connecting with the slightly warmer gray ones.  
  
"It's what I do best," Draco replied quietly, absently lifting a hand to run it through the tousled dark tresses surrounding the boy's face. "Stay with me tonight," he said, commanding it with his voice and his stance.  
  
"You couldn't afford me," Harry said with a slight laugh that had a breathless quality to it. Draco heard it, and it made him harder for the boy than he could remember being in a long time.  
  
"Try me," he insisted.  
  
"Three hundred for the night," Harry said, torn between just wanting to throw himself at Draco and run away at the same time.  
  
"Fine. Come with me," Draco said, wrapping a strong hand around Harry's arm and handed him his coat to sling on, before guiding him inside.  
  
Harry's jaw dropped once they entered past the silent doorman, and interior far more luxurious than Harry had ever imagined. Marble and cream carpet was everywhere, with furniture that looked uncomfortable to sit on, and gold plated tables and desks.  
  
"Wow," he breathed, instinctively backing away from the decadence.  
  
"It's ok, you're fine. Stop fidgeting," he said, his hand cupping Harry's elbow. Draco strode quickly to the front desk, asking, "Do I have any messages?"  
  
While Harry tried to make himself invisible next to the marble column, Draco briefly looked through his messages before telling the desk operator to hold his calls and messages for the rest of the night.  
  
Once again grasping his elbow, Draco led the way to the elevators, and Harry was still intensely aware of the stares he was receiving, even with Draco's elegant overcoat wrapped around him.  
  
While they waited at the elevator doors, Harry could feel the discomfort radiating off in waves of the older couple next to him. He turned his head and smiled at the older man, and was surprised to see a smile back. The wife, aware of her husband's interest in the beautiful young man standing next to the millionaire, Mr. Malfoy, smacked his arm and whispered, "Don't pay attention to it!"  
  
Looking down, Harry willed his eyes not to water, and obtrusively wiped his eyes before anyone could notice the brightness.  
  
"So what level are you staying on Draco?" Harry asked quietly, anything to distract his attention from the older man next to him trying to squeeze his bum.  
  
_Ah, I love how he says my name_, he thought briefly before answering. "The Penthouse," Draco replied shortly, barely restraining himself from decking the man next to Harry. As it was, he turned to bear his teeth in a smile to Harry, while letting his eyes slide over the man in warning. The older man hastily stepped away before he found himself in the serious pain he could see promised in those cold gray eyes.  
  
Finally the door opened, and before anyone could react, Harry bounded inside. "Oh look!" he squealed, "There's seats! And room enough for two," he purred, waving his fingers at Draco.  
  
Immediately stepping inside and motioning the elevator operator to close the doors, it blocked the entrance to the lavishly smiling companion of the older woman standing outside.  
  
"Behave yourself," Draco said gently, rearranging the leg Harry had propped up invitingly. Harry pouted, biting his lip, and Draco could not restrain his index fingertip that he smoothed over the glossy lips.  
  
Before either could react, Harry sucked the fingertip shallowly inside of his mouth, teeth nipping at the pad of the finger before swallowing the entire knuckle inside the warm cavern. Draco gasped quietly, letting the boy play with his finger, and was hard-pressed not to take the playful imp next to him right then and there.  
  
The discreet cough uttered by the elevator operator brought Draco back to reality and he helped Harry to his feet and led him down the elaborate hallway to the double doors leading into the suite.  
  
"Have a look around, I'll order some things to be sent up." With that said, Draco turned his back to Harry, speaking quietly into the phone.  
  
Harry used the time to explore his surroundings – a huge television, a wonderful balcony with a view that cost more than the room, a separate bedroom, and a bath large enough to fit five people. He opened the balcony to step outside, looking over the town, turning when he heard Draco's voice.  
  
"Be careful out there," he said softly.  
  
"Don't you want to come and see?" Harry asked, spreading his arms to indicate the explosive vision of L.A nightlife.  
  
"I don't care much for heights," he said, and left it at that. Turning he walked back into the room, away from the doors leading to the balcony, just as there was a knock on the door.  
  
"I'll get it," Harry said, and leaped across the room to let the trolley in. The man pushed it just inside the door, standing solemnly while gazing at Harry. Draco watched the emotions race across Harry's face, amusement perking his lips when he saw Harry's stance change into one of anger.  
  
"What? What are you looking at?" he questioned the hotel worker who just coughed, and stood there staring at him. "Is it my skirt? Well, I suggest you take a picture, it'll sure as hell last you longer!" There was dead silence for a moment as both other occupants were stunned.  
  
"Oh, right. Sorry about that," Draco murmured before sliding a couple of bills into the man's hand. The man bowed shallowly, and then left.  
  
"Oh..." Harry stuttered, and then fell silent. _Of course the man only wanted a tip. I'm such a prat.  
_  
Trying to hide his embarrassed flush, he stepped over to the trolley and lifted the silver plate covers, unmasking a mountain of strawberries and a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice.  
  
"Oo, strawberries!" Harry squealed delightedly, plucking one from the pile. "Let's eat it them on the couch," Harry suggested, pushing it over near the couch.  
  
He dimmed the lights dramatically, and lightly pushed a button on the remote to see what was on. Another squeal accompanied by a giggle escaped him as he cried, "I Love Lucy! I love this show!"  
  
Draco watched in amused interest as Harry proceeded to become giggly over the show's antics, slightly woozy on the alcohol, and lips stained by strawberries. He flopped on his stomach in front of the TV, chin propped up on his palms, a strawberry poised upon the crest of his lips. Draco could feel his own mouth water at the succulence of those scarlet lips, and wanted to taste them desperately.  
  
At that moment, Harry turned to laughingly offer a sip of his champagne to Draco, when he noticed the lust burning in those swirling gray eyes. Abruptly his laughter stopped, and he crawled towards the reclining figure of the man. He rested his head on Draco's knee, loving the feel of those slim fingers weave into his dark, unruly mane, while he ran his gaze over Draco's body.  
  
His silver head was lightened by the shadows flickering across the TV, highlighting the strong features of the man. His eyes, outlined with short, spiky lashes, made the cool gray of his eyes clash well with his light blonde hair. It was short, slicked back away from his face, leaving his high cheekbones in stark contrast with his perfectly straight nose and thin upper lip. But his lower lip...Harry unconsciously licked his own, staring at the fullness of that lower lip. It delighted him, and he desperately wanted to run his tongue across the territory, memorizing the softness.  
  
His chin was narrow and sharply angled, his neck similar to the delicate curving of a swan. But then, his shoulders jutted out with strength and muscles, exciting even under the pale white dress shirt, narrowing down to a lean waist and slim hips. His legs, long and muscled, contracted under the hand he placed upon the thigh, and were covered in soft black pants and his feet encased in gleaming black shoes.  
  
Harry hated to break the mood, but he needed to clean himself up first before he could have wild, passionate sex. He grinned at the thought, and shivered in anticipation for a moment.  
  
"I'll be right back, I just need to use..." Harry trailed off, gesturing towards the bathroom, his breathing irregular.  
  
Draco inclined his head shortly, before answering, "I'll wait right here." Of course, he had no intention of doing that, but he didn't mention that to Harry.  
  
Harry hurried off to the restroom, his maroon bag clutched in his hands. Quickly setting it on the counter, he searched for a little plastic, round holder in the bag, wanting to be quick in time to restart the sexual tension on the couch. He wanted to feel the tingle that had been missing in his recent sex life...  
  
Draco waited a few moments, tearing off the gray tie around neck and unclasping the first two buttons in his shirt. Following the path Harry had taken, he paused for a moment, feeling like a pervert but wanting to sooth his fears. He knocked on the door, before letting himself in.  
  
Harry, startled, turned around, instinctively hiding the plastic vile behind his back, forgetting briefly about the mirror behind him.  
  
"Hey, what are you doing, just barging in here like that?" Harry cried, shrinking away from the imposing figure of Draco.  
  
"If you're doing drugs, I want you to leave right now. I won't stand for it," Draco intoned quietly, reaching forward to grab Harry's arm.  
  
Harry let himself be dragged forward and his hand unclenched, revealing the plastic vile of floss in his hand. "There were seeds in my teeth..." he trailed off.  
  
Draco was silent for a moment, before nodding. Then, surprising both of them, he grabbed him around the waist and lifted him onto the cold marble counter. Stepping between the splayed legs in the skirt, Draco trailed his lips down the succulent neck Harry arched instinctively, the delicate nerve endings on fire. He could feel the skin shifting beneath his questing lips, the prickles of goosepimples in his flesh, and the breathy gasps Harry was emitting.  
  
Draco lifted his head, staring into the hazy eyes of Harry and wrapped his arms around the boy. He could not stop his hands from roaming along the body before him, unable to stop touching this amazing young man as he was unable to stop breathing.  
  
"May I?" he questioned, motioning to the shirt Harry worse.  
  
"Of course, Draco..." Harry said, trembling in a mix of anticipation and fear.  
  
Slowly he untied the knot at Harry's navel, trailing the shirt tails across the sensitive skin, chuckling at the renewal of tiny bumps that indicated his sensitivity to Draco's' play.  
  
"So responsive...so wonderfully hot..." Draco murmured beneath his breath, but hearing the words, Harry went into orbit.  
  
Harry, now fully involved in the play, shrugged coquettishly, letting the shirt slide from his shoulders before dropping fully onto the counter, half-naked except for the boots and skirt stretched tight across his thighs.  
  
"Lovely skirt, Harry...it would look better off," Draco insinuated. Harry giggled, and hopped off the counter.  
  
"Follow me then, if you dare," Harry purred, curling his finger invitingly as he strode quickly into the bedroom.  
  
Draco followed more slowly, unbuttoning the rest of his white dress shirt, slipping it off his shoulders to fall unceremoniously to the floor in the hallway. When he walked into the bedroom, he caught his breath at the sight of Harry, totally nude except for those damn boots.  
  
Seeing him walk into the room, he held up a hand to pause Draco's step, and sat on the bed, his legs propped up for him to see clearly all of his nude body. He ran his hand down his body, from his neck down his abdomen, playing gently with the tiny trail of hair, before running his hand down his thigh, completely missing his male member. Then he teasingly trailed the zipper down on his boot, exposing the shapely calf and ankle hid inside. He slowly slid the boot off, leaving only the black hose that contrasted so well to his smooth tan skin and midnight hair tinged by blonde. When Draco made the move to walk forward, Harry halted his progress again, and gave him the same torture with the other boot.  
  
He made him wait till he had shed every last article of clothing, and only then did he beckon Draco forward. Walking towards the edge of the bed, Harry made slow work of shedding Draco's clothing, until finally they were both gloriously naked.  
  
As Draco moved on top of his lover after several minutes of playing, and readying himself to enter, he leaned down to give those scarlet lips a taste. Instead found his mouth trailing across Harry's smooth, powdery cheek.  
  
"No..." Harry whispered, and attacked Draco's shoulder, encouraging him to finally give them both what they wanted. When Draco thrust in and out of Harry, he moaned, and hearing Harry's answering whimper made him even crazier.  
  
"Harry," he hissed, and they both came at the same moment, and Harry was sure he could feel the earth move with the power of their combined orgasms.  
  
Harry fell asleep quickly, his muscles exquisitely relaxed, and didn't even notice Draco pull out the wand that cleaned them both up in a matter of seconds. All he noticed, even in sleep, was the heavy, warm weight of his lover against his back.  
  
--------------------  
  
A/N: I just wanted to say that there could have been much more smut, but knowing there is no NC-17, I tried to tone it down to the R rating. I wish I could be much more descriptive but you all understand what's happening.  
  
More coming soon! Please R&R! 


	4. The Deal

Title: Pretty Man (Walking down the Street)  
  
Name: SMalfoy  
  
Pairings: HP/DM  
  
Spoilers: Pretty Woman  
  
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, and never will be mine. I am only borrowing them from JK Rowlings. A lot of the plot is from Pretty Woman as well, with added scenes and dialogue from myself to fit a Harry Potter slash fic.  
  
-------------------  
  
**Chapter 4**  
  
_The Deal_  
  
When Harry woke the next morning he was alone in the satin covered bed, naked except for a sheet, and wonderfully achy. _Ahhh, what a night. I think I'll just stay here forever._ He rolled around decadently on the sheets, loving the feel of satin on the various whisker burns Draco had given him last night.  
  
But reality intruded soon enough, and the rumbling in his stomach reminded him that he had missed dinner last night, and it was craving some sort of substance. He grinned slyly as he thought, _Well a certain kind of sustenance...I doubt the stuff last night counts.  
_  
Getting up languidly, he stretched, unaware of the admiring gray eyes from the bedroom door. Still oblivious, he strolled into the bathroom, unashamedly naked, and let out a startled shriek at his reflection of smeared makeup.  
  
Laughing amusedly, Draco walked back to the head of the table and opened his Muggle newspaper. _Really_, he thought, _would these Muggles ever learn to get along?_ He blatantly ignored the fact that the wizarding world was going through the same changes.  
  
When Harry finally emerged from the restroom, his face was washed clean but his hair was still unruly, and clothed in a robe the room provided. He was a little shy about being around Draco after such a night of abandoned passion, but carefully hid it behind his 'morning after' mask. He was ready to dart to the bedroom and grab his things if he needed to make a quick escape.  
  
As it was, Draco was sitting at the table, sipping tea and ignoring the silver protected plates.  
  
"Hullo," Harry said shyly, standing indecisively behind Draco's chair. He didn't even turn to look at Harry, but instead gestured towards to table.  
  
"I didn't know what you liked, so I ordered a bit of everything. Help yourself," Draco said, not looking up from the newspaper.  
  
Still a little unsure, Harry gasped at the amount of plate-ware containing food spread on the table. He began lifting the different covers, noting the scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, and kippers on the table.  
  
"Yum," he said wondering where to begin. He looked questioningly at Draco, and blushed at the smile twitching the corners of a rather impenetrable face.  
  
"Don't you want something?" Harry asked, deciding to settle for a pancake to start off with. He walked over to settle his rump on the table next to Draco's tea, but Draco's pointed glance at a chair made him slip into the chair next to him. "Oops," he said with a chuckle.  
  
"I don't eat much in the morning," Draco replied, staring unseeing at the newspaper's small print. He couldn't get the image of the sleepy Harry out of his mind, and it took all of his willpower not to attack him even now. _What is happening to me?_ Draco wondered, a tiny part of him worried at the new feelings.  
  
"Ah, ok." Harry said nothing after that for a while, content on eating. He finally spoke up when he noticed the little stick next to Draco's hand on the table.  
  
"What's that?" Harry asked, pointing, while a little egg slipped out of his mouth. He flamed red at the inelegant tumble of scrambled egg.  
  
Draco laughed aloud, but hastily covered it up when he noticed the embarrassed tears in Harry's green eyes. He didn't want to make him cry – he had no experience with crying hookers. Besides, he knew Harry wouldn't believe him when he said he wasn't laughing at him, but rather at the innocence he portrayed in his actions.  
  
"It's a wand."  
  
"As in a magic wand?" Harry asked, confused.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So you can do magic?" he asked after pondering that point for a moment.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can you show me?" he questioned hesitantly after another silence.  
  
"Yes."  
  
With that said, Draco grabbed his wand and transfigured the chair underneath Harry into a sofa, Harry's milk into coffee, and the egg into toast.  
  
"Whoa!" Harry cried, giggling. "That's brilliant!"  
  
Draco smiled at Harry's awe, and said, "It's only the beginning of the power I wield."  
  
Harry suddenly looked scared for a moment. "You're not going to hurt me are you?"  
  
Draco looked at him, confused. "Why would I do that?"  
  
"Because in my experience, when a man has power, he likes to use it for pain," Harry said, standing to back away slowly.  
  
Draco got up from his chair, still holding the wand, and quickly, before Harry could react, pulled him into his arms. "I won't hurt you," he whispered into Harry's ear, breath puffing lightly against the rim.  
  
Harry was silent for a moment, but nuzzled his head into Draco's collar as a reply.  
  
With his wand, Draco held the wand to Harry's temple and heard his sigh as a wave of pleasure surged through his body. _I promise not to hurt you._  
  
After a moment passed and Harry was pleasantly relaxed, they both returned to the table to finish their meal.  
  
"I can tell you're British from your accent, so why are you in L.A?" Harry asked, interested to know why such a handsome man would willingly leave the wonders of the UK behind.  
  
"I've been here for a few months on business. But I have a feeling my stay will be ending shortly," Draco said with a self-satisfied smile.  
  
"Human or wizard business?" Harry asked, a piece of bacon disappearing into his mouth.  
  
Briefly distracted by the luscious mouth and dreams of how it had been used on him last night, he was only returned to reality when Harry asked the question again with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Both," he said shortly, not wanting to give away anything that could be used against him at a later time.  
  
"Ah," was all Harry said and he dropped the subject. "Well may I use your bathtub for a little while before I go?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"Sure, it's no problem. I don't have to leave yet anyways, I have some phone calls to make first." Draco shrugged and turned away. With a wave of his wand, he sent the dishes back to the kitchen area, and the bill to the front desk. Harry's jaw had dropped at the sudden emptiness of the table, but finally just shook his head and left for the bathroom.  
  
--------------------  
  
It was fifteen minutes later that a shrill voice singing horribly interrupted Draco's tirade to Pettigrew on the phone. Suddenly smiling slightly – as he had been frowning before - he moved to the bathroom door amid Pettigrew's questions.  
  
"Who is that? What's going on? Who is doing that awful singing?"  
  
"It's just the maid," Draco replied absently, watching Harry splashing in the tub with a set of headphones on and singing Prince at the top of his lungs.  
  
"I just want your extra time and your slurping noises kiss!"  
  
"Somebody should tell the person to buy some singing lessons," Pettigrew muttered.  
  
"Don't worry about it. Look, I'll be in later. We'll talk then," and with a final click on Pettigrew's sputtering, hung up the phone.  
  
He stood there for a moment, watching to boy happily playing with the bubbles in his bath, and wondered when had been the last time he had gotten the same such enjoyment in something so simple. _Last night..._ his voice whispered, before he firmly squashed it down.  
  
"Harry!" he shouted over the noisy singing. "Harry!"  
  
The singing stopped abruptly and Harry blushed at Draco finding him with such a horrible singing voice. He seemed to be blushing an awful lot lately, and he vowed to put a stop to embarrassing himself. "Yes Draco, what is it?"  
  
"How would you like to stay with me for the weekend?" Draco asked softly, smoothing the bubbles from Harry's smooth cheek with his thumb.  
  
For a moment Harry's heart stopped. _He wants me to stay with him, even knowing what I do for a living? Is this my dream come true?  
_  
Draco's next sentence killed any hope that he had had remaining.  
  
"I'll pay for your services of course. I just need a host to stay by my side for a short time while I'm in town. How does $3000 sound to you?"  
  
"WHAT?" Harry cried, almost sinking under the water in surprise.  
  
"I want you to attend some social functions with me while I'm in L.A. How does $3000 for your time sound? Along with a new wardrobe?"  
  
"I...I don't know what to say," Harry said, dazed. Although he did badly need the money, he knew the dangers of staying with Draco. If he became attached, his heart would surely break into a million pieces. He didn't know if he could bear to put them back together again either.  
  
"Yes?" Draco asked, more hopefully than he thought the situation warranted.  
  
"Three thousand? THREE THOUSAND?" and with that said, ducked under the water giggling and snorting bubbles.  
  
"Harry? Harry!" he cried, believing the worst. "Accio wand!" and with a wave of said wand, made the bubbles and water disappear.  
  
Harry sputtered at the lack of water and burst into fresh giggles. "Trying to save me Draco?"  
  
"Well, how was I to know what you were doing," Draco grumbled. "So, what about an answer to my proposition?"  
  
"Yes, of course I'll help you Draco," Harry said softly. Then he purred low in his throat, wrapping an arm around Draco's shoulders. This morning Draco was wearing a slate gray dress shirt, a black tie, and black dress pants similar to last night.  
  
"Would you like to join me for a swim, Draco?" Harry asked, fluttering his eyelashes flirtatiously.  
  
While Draco was sincerely tempted, as Harry could tell, he pulled away and straightened his shirt, drying the various wet spots that had ensued with his wand. "Not right now Harry. Today, I'd like you to go out and buy something special for tonight. Tonight I am meeting with some business people, and I'd like for you to accompany me."  
  
"Of course Draco. Anything in particular I should wear?"  
  
"Something relatively conservative would do, I think," Draco said, standing up and holding a hand out to Harry to stand.  
  
As he was sitting in an empty tub, Harry had no choice but to accept the hand, and smirked at the smoldering expression he received when Draco got a good look at his nakedness.  
  
"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay for a few more minutes?" Harry asked hopefully.  
  
Without another word, Draco swept out of the room and slammed out of the hotel. Harry burst into laughter and ran into the opposite room, jumping on the bed. "Three thousand!" he kept shouting, over and over.  
  
He noticed a wad of money on the bedside table, and rifled through it for a moment before frowning. Where the hell do I go for suitable clothing? he wondered. He smiled as he soon had an idea.  
  
He picked up the phone and dialed out of the hotel, and it was a decidedly sleepy Seamus that answered.  
  
"Wha...who...hello?" he finally muttered.  
  
"Seamus! Seamus, wake up!" Harry crowed happily.  
  
"Ma?"  
  
"No, Seamus, it's Harry," he replied patiently.  
  
"Harry? Harry, where are you?" Seamus asked, finally waking up and noticing his friend wasn't in his bed.  
  
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. I'm staying in some ritzy hotel with the best offer in the world." Harry proceeded to tell him the wonderful news while Seamus groaned enviously, albeit good-naturedly.  
  
"I'm bummed; I can't believe I let you have him. I got some loser who didn't want to pay up and Carlos had to kick his ass to get the $200 out of him. Then Carlos took $150 for his trouble."  
  
"Well at least you got some money. I got the full $300, and I'm leaving it at the front desk for you to pick up and pay the landlord." Harry said seriously. "Now get the address, ok? Are you listening?"  
  
"Ya, ya I'm listening. Go ahead," Seamus mumbled.  
  
Harry rambled off the name and address of the hotel and ended up on a happy sigh.  
  
"So, who's the guy by the way? Anyone I'd know?" Seamus asked jokingly.  
  
"Well, I don't know if you'd know him, but his name is Draco Malfoy."  
  
There was dead silence on the other end. "Seamus? Seamus, what's the matter?" Harry asked, concerned his friend has passed out and brained himself on the floor.  
  
"No, no I'm ok. It's just...I never expected to hear that name." Seamus was slowly starting to panic. He'd never guessed in a million years Harry would end up anywhere near Malfoy...oh God, Dumbledore was going to kill him for sure this time.  
  
"Why? You do know him, then?" Harry asked, interested and, if he really wanted to get down to it, a tad jealous.  
  
"No, I mean-" Seamus stumbled for a moment. "I mean, he's the richest guy in L.A at least!" he finally managed to blurt out.  
  
"Oh ya, well, I know that," Harry sighed, with a roll of his eyes.  
  
There was silence for a few moments while they were each lost in thought. Harry sighed again thinking about what an eventful night they had shared together. Seamus was slowly starting to slide into a panic, but trying to hide it from Harry.  
  
"So, where do I go to get some new duds?" Harry laughed, finally remembering the point of the phone call.  
  
"In Beverly Hills? Rodeo Drive baby," Seamus said with a grin. 


	5. Rude to Harry

Title: Pretty Man (Walking down the Street)  
  
Email: MyzticBeanaol.com  
  
Name: SMalfoy  
  
Pairings: HP/DM  
  
Spoilers: Pretty Woman  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters (J.K Rowlings does), nor do I own any rights to the most of the ideas presented in this fan fic.  
  
NOTE: This is a scenario of AU (alternate universe), where Harry does not have any special wizarding powers (that we know of YET), and thus knows nothing of the evils of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It also follows along the plot movie Pretty Woman  
  
NOTE 2: I realize in the first chapter that I accidentally referred to Seamus as a 'she' – I didn't mean to b/c I was thinking of Kit at the time and must have accidentally typed that. Also I wrote that Harry wore a blonde wig, which I changed to say his hair was tipped blonde. It really was tipped blonde, he didn't wear the wig. Sorry if it caused confusion!  
  
Driven to Insanity – thanks for all the great reviews! And would you believe I'm doing this purely by memory? I lost my tape of Pretty Woman. If I do something wrong tell me! Haha.

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Chapter 5 Rude to Harry  
  
Picking up his maroon bag, he fumbled through the purse, smiling at the absence at more than one missing condom, and hurriedly pulled his clean clothing out. It was a pair of tight, practically bleached out jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the arms ripped off to expose more of his leanly muscled arms and a bit of his belly. Digging further he found a pair of well-worn flip-flops and slipped them onto his feet.  
  
He walked into the bathroom for one last face check, washed his mouth out with the toothpaste, and whistling to himself, stuffed the wad of cash into his back pocket. He also flicked the tub of mascara open, and flicked the darkness on his short, spiky lashes. He slipped the glasses on easily, promising himself he would find a decent pair of contacts later.  
  
He hardly noticed the odd looks he received from guests and hotel workers alike, and didn't hear the hotel manager, Gilderoy Lockhart, mutter to the front desk clerk to call him if the man returned.  
  
He had the doorman (not the same from last night) hail him a cab and told the cabbie where he wanted to go. Fifteen minutes later he was strutting down Rodeo Drive, liking the feel of having extra cash on him to spend on something nice for himself. No worries of a roommate needing money, no pimp to demand the extra...Ah, this was the life.  
  
--------------------  
  
He found a nice outfit in a window he happened to be passing by, a white suit collared by a silky navy blue shirt and tie. It seemed to literally glow in the afternoon sun, and it seemed like a choice Draco would have wanted to see him attired in.  
  
Walking through the threshold of the store, he ignored the frowns of the store management, and instead inspected the suit outfit. It was absolutely wonderful, fitted closely to his body, displaying the raw sexual magnetism he liked to flaunt. It would drive Draco nuts,Harry thought with a smile.  
  
Looking around the store, he hailed a man he figured worked there, and asked, "Could I please try this on?"  
  
"I don't think that would suit you," the smarmy worker said.  
  
"Well, I didn't ask that, I asked if I could try it on," Harry said impatiently.  
  
"You would never be able to afford it," the man answered abruptly, losing the façade of being polite.  
  
"How you would know, I happen to have enough money with me to buy this store," Harry bluffed.  
  
"I sincerely doubt that, you don't belong here. Please leave now." And with that said the man turned his back on Harry and walked away.  
  
Harry froze in shock, unable to believe he had been so totally dismissed. With a heart the same density as lead, he tried to escape as quickly as possible.  
  
--------------------  
  
Stepping out of the cab, Harry walked briskly inside of the hotel and was surprised to see three security men surround him and what looked like the manager walk up to him.  
  
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to follow me," the smooth, blonde haired man said, leading him away, and not even turning to check that Harry was actually following his directions.  
  
They stepped into a back office, where Harry was shoved into a couch underneath a window and surrounded by potted plants. It was a relatively small office, but well furnished and rather intimidating.  
  
"What's going on here? Why have you brought me here?" Harry asked, glaring at the surrounding security officers. He drew back in fear once he noticed it was not guns in their hands – it was wands.  
  
"Sir, my name is Gilderoy Lockhart. Do you know who I am?" he asked smoothly, giving Harry a bright grin full of white teeth.  
  
"Uh, no, Mr. Lockhart. I have no idea what you want with me," Harry replied, glancing about him uneasily.  
  
"Well, first of all, I am manager of this hotel. I don't believe you belong-" he started to say, but Harry cut him off.  
  
"Oh you too huh? Well, I'm sick and tired of being treated like scum, and I don't believe I have deserved this. I am here as a guest of Mr. Malfoy," he said importantly, his green eyes glaring daggers into the blue ones of Lockhart.  
  
"Oh really? Are you any sort of relation to Mr. Malfoy?" Lockhart asked, his gaze becoming sharp.  
  
"Uh...a...nephew," he stammered.  
  
"A...nephew," Lockhart repeated. He gave a significant glance to the others, and shook his head slightly. Without any word spoken, they left the room silently.  
  
"What is your name?" Lockhart asked quietly.  
  
"Harry Potter," he replied, looking down.  
  
"And what were talking about when you said "you too"? Has someone else treated you this way?" Lockhart questioned kindly.  
  
"Yes," Harry mumbled, blinking hard against the sheen of tears that threatened to overflow his lashes. "I tried to go find something suitable to wear like Draco told me to, and when I went into a store they were insulting me, and even when I told them I had enough money, they threw me out..." he trailed off, sniffling loudly, holding out the wad of bills he had pulled out of his pocket crumpled in his hand.  
  
Lockhart held out handkerchief, his blue eyes sympathetic. "Well, Mr. Potter, I will help you with that problem. And then, after Mr. Malfoy leaves, I assume you will not have another uncle that will be staying here?"  
  
Harry shook his head violently. Lockhart moved to his desk to place a call, saying, "Natalie...hi this is Gilderoy Lockhart...yes, have you picked up my book Magical Me? Good, good, I hope you enjoy. Next time I see you I shall autograph it for you...yes, fine, fine...of course...Albus is scheming as always...anyways, I have a young man here in need of some help. I shall be sending him over shortly, his name is Mr. Potter....thanks, have a wonderful day."  
  
When he hung up, Harry just stared at him in a sort of pathetic thankfulness. "Just go out to the doorman, he will hail a taxi for you."  
  
Harry stood and nodded briefly. "Thank you." And he walked out of hotel with his head held high.  
  
--------------------  
  
When Harry returned to the hotel a scant two hours later, he had a black bag thrown over his arm, and was still wearing the clothing he had left in that morning.  
  
Lockhart intercepted Harry as he walked around the lobby of the hotel, attracting too much attention for his liking.  
  
"Mr. Potter. I assumed that what you would be purchasing today, you would be wearing."  
  
"Oh, yes, of course, I will be tonight. But...uh...well I need your help," Harry said faintly, looking around in an almost panicked fashion.  
  
"And how is that?" Lockhart asked, giving him silent agreement that he would help Harry.  
  
Harry sighed gratefully, and proceeded to explain that he had no idea how to act in civilized public.  
  
--------------------  
  
Hurrying as quickly as possible up to the Penthouse suite, he glanced at the note taped to the doorway.  
  
_ Draco –  
I'm sitting at the bar. I'll be waiting for you to come pick me up.  
Yours,  
Harry  
_  
Sweeping through the doorway, gripping the note, he was unaccountably glad to have Harry waiting, though he tried desperately not to think about that too much. Instead, he focused on all the best-laid plans that were finally going to happen that night.  
  
--------------------  
  
When Draco finally made his way into the bar located on the first floor of the hotel, he was conscious of the slightly damp palms, and the consuming fear Harry had already left. He was still scanning when his eyes ran across and away from a dark haired man, before immediately jerking back and swallowing hard.  
  
This was not the same boy Draco had left this morning. Instead, in his place, there was a poised, elegant man. He wore a pale gray suit the of an early morning mist, with a dress shirt the exact of Draco's silvery eyes. His tie, matching the of the suit, contrasted sharply with the shirt, and his gleaming gray shoes completed the outfit. His hair had finally been tamed into some semblance of order and was smoothed back away from his face, drawing attention to those expressive eyes. His glasses that had had worn this morning after getting out of the bathtub had been exchanged for new contacts, his face clear and smooth in the low lights of the bar.  
  
_I can't breath_, Draco thought, finally drawing in a deep breath. _He's so handsome, I want to take him back upstairs and ravish that body...tonight_, he promised himself. Tonight he would have the man instead of the boy.  
  
"How do I look?" Harry asked, turning in a circle so that Draco could admire the back as well as the front. What he saw almost made him gasp aloud. _Oo, that arse_...he moaned silently to himself.  
  
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect," Draco managed to strangle out. He held out his crooked arm to Harry. "Shall we go?"  
  
"Absolutely," he agreed.  
  
--------------------  
  
As Harry and Draco were led to the table, he mentally tried to give himself a pep talk. It's ok, you'll do fine Harry. A dinner meeting is not the end of the world. Look at how Draco reacted to your new clothing; I'm sure you won't embarrass him. Just play it cool, and do exactly as Mr. Lockhart has instructed.  
  
With that less than comforting thought, he gave his attention to the two gentlemen that were standing at attention at their table. The first, a tall, dark, and extremely irritable looking man did not inspire much hope in Harry that this meeting was going to go well. The other man, another tall one,he thought, had bright red hair and a ton of freckles scattered about his face. He gave Harry a small smile and a bow as Draco introduced him to the table.  
  
"Harry Potter, this is Severus Snape. The other man, his apprentice, is Ronald Weasley," Draco said, with a sneer towards the red haired man.  
  
"How do you do?" Harry asked politely, shaking their hands in turn before they all settled into their seats.  
  
"So, Malfoy, what's this all about?" Snape asked coolly, his fingers forming a triangle in front of his mouth, hiding his expression.  
  
"I think we all know what this is about, Severus," Draco said, smiling slightly.  
  
"Then why don't you enlighten us," Weasley snarled. He looked on the verge of jumping over the table to choke Draco, and unconsciously Harry moved closer to Draco in protection.  
  
Noting the movement, Draco smiled inwardly, and at the disgusted expression on Weasley's face.  
  
"My company is interested in buying the shipping yard in New York," Draco said simply.  
  
"And we all know that Purebloods Inc. is being run by Voldemort," Weasley hissed, only to be silenced by the glare of Severus.  
  
"It's not for sale, Draco, and you know it," Severus said softly.  
  
"Oh, but I know quite differently," Draco said smoothly. "I know that Hogwarts, nor the Ministry of Magic can afford to support the shipyard for more than five more months at best. I'm simply stepping in now to help you avoid bankruptcy and, of course, for my own interests."  
  
"Of course," Severus murmured. "But, like I said, it's not for sale. To you."  
  
Harry looked back and forth between the two men, whose conversation was halted by the appearance of the waiter. Draco ordered quietly for both of them, while Harry was lost in confusion and trying to hide it.  
  
Obviously, he didn't do quite as well as job as he had hoped, because both Severus and Ron noted it.  
  
"Do you know who Voldemort is, Harry?" Ron asked, staring intently.  
  
"Uh...no," Harry said, glancing at Draco.  
  
"Do you know about the wizarding world?" Severus asked silkily.  
  
"I've heard only a bare minimum about it," Harry replied warily. Draco patted his hand in reassurance, and that motion, too, did not go unnoticed.  
  
They were all saved from conversation as the plates were set down in front of them. Looking down at the dark brown shells scattered on his plate, he was hesitant to touch it. The waiter laid down a set of prongs next to his plate, and picking them up, he wondered what in the hell he was supposed to do with it. Lockhart had not told him about the extra silverware besides the six already laid out before him.  
  
Draco made a motion with his, and Harry watched intently how to work that contraption. Picking up a shell tentatively with the prongs, he let go of the conversation in lieu of trying not to make a fool of himself. Of course, it never worked.  
  
In squeezing the shell, the butter it had sat in had made it quite slippery, and it popped out of his prongs and went flying through the air. All conversation near the table stopped to watch its progress. Fortunately, a waiter with quick reflexes managed to snatch it out of the air before it landed on a woman's brightly ed blonde head.  
  
"Oh no," Harry moaned, giving the waiter a thankful wave. His face blushed crimson, and he had a hard time looking at the other party as the table. A quickly covered snort beside him made him look up and glare at Draco.  
  
_That was not funny_, his eyes said, while Draco's replied, _Of course it was.  
_  
Harry looked up, embarrassed, at the smirks both Ron and Severus wore, and immediately lifted his chin proudly. They wouldn't make him feel pitiful and unworthy to be there. He had as much right as everyone else.  
  
_Even if you're not paying for the food? _his subconscious asked.  
  
_Hey, I pay for the food in my own way_, his indignit other side offered in argument.  
  
His subconscious stayed silent for the rest of the meal.  
  
"Slippery little suckers," he offered weakly in the silence.  
  
Draco snorted, holding back laughter and an amused smile, but he saw the glance Harry darted at him, and knew it was no use. He let out a bark of laughter, falling back into his seat, his arm draping itself across Harry's tense shoulders.  
  
The laugh settled over the table, erasing some of the tension that had been building up. Looking into Draco's face, Harry could hear the rustiness of his chuckle – it seemed as if Draco had not had anything to laugh about in quite a while. Besides, he liked to feel of Draco's arm around his shoulders, it made him feel not quite so low as Ron and Severus made him feel.  
  
"Sorry if I embarrassed you," Harry said, leaning close to Draco to whisper in his ear.  
  
"It was worth it to see the look on everyone's faces," Draco murmured back, his lips brushing the soft shell of Harry's ear, a tender look crossing his face briefly.  
  
It was noted by both Snape and Weasley, he had no doubt, and would be reported to Dumbledore, but he couldn't summon up enough emotion to care at the moment.  
  
_He's such an innocent_, Draco thought, settling his hand on the back of Harry's neck comfortably. _I shall endeavor to make it stay that way.  
_  
"So gentlemen, on Monday I will be offering up a contract for you to both peruse at your disposal, and hopefully we shall come peaceably to a conclusion." Draco said smoothly, picking up a fork to begin eating the cracked snails sitting lifelessly on his plate.  
  
"And if we refuse?" Snape asked, following his example.  
  
"Then it will go not-so-peacefully," Draco said softly, glancing at the men sitting opposite of him.  
  
The two men leaned away from the table, Ron speaking frantically into Snape's ear, but Severus showed no sign of reaction. He only nodded and spoke shortly.  
  
Harry gave up on the snails, and a green chilled mound was set before him. It looked like a salad that had been liquefied. He tentatively put a spoonful in his mouth, and was shocked at the electric zap he received as the ice cream melted around his warm tongue. He snuck a look at his dinner partner next to him, and was caught in the intent gaze fastened on his mouth. Dipping his spoon into the green concoction, he kept his eyes trained on Draco while he let the icy smoothness slip onto his tongue. He rolled it around in his mouth, letting out a quiet moan as the electricity again zapped all of his nerve endings. Draco's silver eyes darkened in passion, and Harry held still as one of Draco's fingertips touched the corner of his mouth. His finger came away with a dab of the sea-foam green ice cream, and unthinking, Harry leaned forward and licked it off of his finger.  
  
A discreet cough brought them both back to reality, and Draco was shocked at his uncontrolled response to the boy sitting next to him. He had forgotten about the meeting entirely, and he was angered at his own weakness.  
  
"Well?" Draco asked shortly, frustration simmering in his cold eyes.  
  
"I suppose we shall just have to do this the not-so-peacefully way," Snape said smoothly, standing up, leaving the food untouched. Ron stood next to him, a smirking smile dancing around the corners of his mouth. They bowed briefly to the pair and left without another word.  
  
Draco slammed his hand down on the table, shocking the tables nearest him with his bout of anger, and stood up as well. Harry stood hurriedly, afraid to say anything to attract the wrath of his partner, and followed the retreating figure of the stiff blonde man as closely as he dared. He knew that Draco was furious about his reaction to Harry, his plans not going accordingly, and everything else he could think of...he only hoped he would not be hurt in the crossfire.  
  
--------------------  
  
A/N: More sex and conversation to come! 


	6. The Piano Encounter

**Title:** Pretty Man (Walking down the Street)  
  
**Email:** MyzticBeanaol.com  
  
**Name**: SMalfoy  
  
**Pairings**: HP/DM  
  
**Spoilers**: Pretty Woman  
  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters (J.K Rowling does), nor do I own any rights to the most of the ideas presented in this fan fic.  
  
**_Cicatrix:_** Thanks for the review – as for the bag comment, I know I had put two of the same descriptions in the second and third chapter, but it's because I wasn't sure if the new revised version of ch. 2 had really worked, and wanted to make that the description wasn't left out (it had occurred to me after I had already updated the second ch.) I've fixed it now. Also, I put HP first instead of DM because since it is about Pretty Woman, and Harry is supposed to be her, I figure that it's really about him even though I tend to favor Draco's character more. Thanks for the help!  
  
**_Limegreenlion_**: I am flattered, thank you!  
  
**_Nil Blaze_**: Thanks for all the wonderful comments. Yes, Dumbledore does know about Draco's involvement with Harry, soon to be seen later on in the story. He didn't let Harry into prostitution; he allowed nature to take its course. So far, he doesn't know exactly why Harry is important, it's only a premonition...you'll have to read more to find out muhahah  
  
And now...more story!  
  
--------------------  
  
**Chapter 6  
**  
_The Piano Encounter_  
  
The ride back to the hotel in the limo was a silent affair, with Draco coldly silent and Harry afraid to tip the balance of Draco's control. So they each said nothing, lost inside their own thoughts. Smoothing down the cool gray pant leg, Harry hoped this wasn't an end to their liaison while at the same time desperately craving time away from the moodiness the wizard was showing.  
  
_Why do I always get caught by the tall, blonde, and brooding ones?_ Harry despaired, glaring out of the window in condemnation.  
  
_Why can I not control myself around this insolent boy?_ Draco fumed, his hand twitching on the wand he had pulled from the inside of his coat.  
  
_This is all his fault!_ They each whined separately and silently.  
  
Pulling up to the curb of the hotel, they made their way upstairs, the silence thick in the posh elevator. Once inside the Penthouse suite, Harry gladly kicked off his polished gray shoes and jacket and opened the doors to the balcony, hoping for some privacy. To his surprise, Draco pulled up a chair and sat down, positioned half inside and half outside of the room. Draco tried to concentrate on his breathing, ignoring the view of the darkened horizon and focused instead on the cool breeze whipping through his elegantly styled hair.  
  
"Draco, you said you never come out here," Harry said, looking at Draco in surprise.  
  
"Well, I'm only half outside," Draco replied, staring out into the night.  
  
"Why do you not like heights?" Harry asked standing beside the still form of his lover.  
  
"I used to play a wizard game called Quidditch," he started, looking up at Harry's shadowed face. "Do you know what that is?"  
  
"No," Harry murmured, laying his hand gently on Draco's shoulder.  
  
"It's a game played on broomsticks, and it has three different kinds of balls. One, called a quaffle, is used by the Chaser's to pass to each other, and thrown into one of three hoops guarded by a Keeper. There's also a ball that the two Beaters will 'beat' towards the Chaser, and then there's a small golden snitch that flies swiftly and silently - and is practically invisible - that is caught the by a Seeker," he explained. Though Harry could only imagine it, he nodded, indicating to Draco he understood.  
  
"I was a Seeker," Draco continued, looking out over the lightened town of Beverly Hills. "I was a damn good one too. But there was an accident, and I was unable to continue," he said shortly, obviously still pained by the memory.  
  
"What kind of accident?" Harry asked softly.  
  
"I...I'll tell you later," Draco said, looking down at his hands.  
  
They were each silent for a few more minutes before Harry spoke up. "You know, the business part of dinner didn't go that bad," Harry said conversationally. He pulled himself onto the edge of the stone balcony, swinging his legs thoughtfully. "He's in trouble, you want to buy his business, and he doesn't want to let it go."  
  
"Thanks for the recap," Draco replied dryly.  
  
"Problem is," Harry said slyly, "I think you like Snape."  
  
"No, what I would like is for you to get off the balcony." Draco said, ignoring Harry's insinuation. "It makes me nervous, please come down."  
  
"It's making you nervous? What, this?" Harry asked teasingly, leaning back a bit. "Would you rescue me if I fell? Look no hands," he said, waving his hands around freely.  
  
Draco looked away sharply, and Harry said up. "OK, I'm sorry. I'll stop," Harry said, consolingly.  
  
"The truth is, it has no relevance whether I like the man or not. I will not let myself become emotionally involved in business," Draco said, reverting back to the topic that had previously been at hand.  
  
"I know what you mean. Seamus is always telling me 'Don't get emotionally involved when turning tricks',". Harry nodded his head towards Draco. "That's why no kissing. I just turn on automatic pilot, stay numb, and become a robot."  
  
Harry paused at the incriminating sound of his words. "Uh...except with you of course," he finished weakly.  
  
"Ah, of course not me," Draco replied, his emotions hidden behind his mask, unrevealing the sting Harry's words had inflicted. "You know, you and I are such similar creatures Harry." He paused. "We both screw people for money."  
  
There was a pained silence from Harry, and he looked away, holding his waist with his arms. The breeze from such a high altitude cut through the thin dress shirt, his jacket having been slung away the moment they entered the hotel along with his shoes. He could feel the barb from the words cut deep into his newly sensitive emotions, and tried to swallow the feeling of inadequacy.  
  
"Who is Seamus?" Draco finally asked, breaking the silence.  
  
"He's a friend of mine. We live together," Harry said briefly, looking out over the edge of the balcony. He missed the sharp look that was sent his way.  
  
"Seamus what?" Draco questioned.  
  
"Seamus Finnigan," Harry replied. "Why so interested?" he asked, puzzled.  
  
"No reason, I just wondered, that's all," Draco said, waving his hand indifferently.  
  
"That's funny. Seamus had the same reaction when I said your name as well," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "Did you two have an affair?" Harry asked, stiffening suddenly. He felt a ragged spurt of jealousy spear his heart.  
  
"Of course not," Draco said coolly. "I don't even know the boy."  
  
"You acted like you knew his name though," Harry pushed, running a hand distractedly through his windblown hair.  
  
"I make it my business to know everything about my associates," Draco replied shortly.  
  
Harry only nodded, and dropped the issue. _Associates? He can't even admit I'm his lover_, Harry thought, pained.  
  
"So, what would your father think about this deal?" Harry asked, trying to cover up the strained silence between the two of them.  
  
"I haven't spoken to my father in four and a half years," Draco replied, looking away from Harry's slightly softening features. "But it wouldn't matter anyways. He's been dead for the past month, and I wasn't even there when he died."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said sympathetically. He knew what it was like to lose parents – he had been alone for as long as he could remember. He had been told by those animals, the Dursley's, that his parents had been incinerated in a freak car accident when he was hardly a year old. He had escaped, luckily, with hardly any cuts and bruises except for the jagged scar at the base of his spine. It had stretched and paled in age, but had always remained a constant reminder of what he had lost.  
  
"Do you want to talk about this?" Harry asked, hopping off of the balcony.  
  
'No," Draco replied harshly.  
  
"Ok. I have an idea," Harry said, smiling slightly. "We should watch movies all night, veg out, and forget all of our problems."  
  
"Veg out?" Draco asked, amused at the American slang.  
  
"Yep, make pigs of ourselves and lie unmoving for hours," Harry said, laughing.  
  
"Well, not tonight. We can do that tomorrow," Draco said, standing with a small smile.  
  
"Where are you going?" Harry asked with a slight whine entering his voice.  
  
"I'm going downstairs. I'll see you in a little while," Draco replied, his palm briefly cupping Harry's chin before moving away.  
  
Harry stood still and watched as he walked out of the door. He tried not to let the pang of hurt tighten in his chest, and forcefully tried to make himself forget that Draco even existed. _If Draco didn't want to be around me, so be it_, he thought. _I'll be just fine on my own. Like I've always been.  
_  
--------------------  
  
Harry turned off the television and lay still in the darkness, fighting the urge to check up on Draco. He glanced at the clock, noting it was almost three o'clock in the morning. Just because it had been hours since he had left didn't mean he had to give in to all of his impulses to find him...to be near him.  
  
Of course, his resolution didn't last long, and he found himself dialing the front desk before he could stop himself.  
  
"Yes, this is the Penthouse suite. Do you happen to know where Mr. Malfoy is?" Harry listened briefly before ending the call.  
  
--------------------  
  
"Here follow me," the elevator servant said - the same boy from the first night Harry had first come to the hotel - motioning to Harry.  
  
Harry felt slightly conspicuous in his white terry cloth robe covering the black silky boxers underneath, and ran a hand through his hair self- consciously. But he followed the boy to his destination.  
  
He heard the piano before he even entered the lounge. He could hear it moaning underneath somebody's expert fingers, and he paused for a moment to listen to the agonizing music before entering.  
  
He wasn't altogether surprised to see the hunched from of Draco trailing his fingers insolently over the keys. His silver eyes were fixed directly upon the ivory keys, completely in tune with the instrument, his soul's energy pouring thorough his fingertips.  
  
Harry walked over towards the piano and its player to wait politely for the song to end. As it was concluding there was a various scattered applause and Draco turned his head towards Harry, knowing he had been standing there watching. There were a few other employees of the hotel watching the action between the two, smoking cigarettes and folding linen.  
  
"I didn't know you played," Harry said softly, leaning up against the black piano corner.  
  
Draco ran his cool eyes over the outlined form in the thick terry cloth. He could feel his blood heating, though he tried to damp it down, controlling the urge he felt to grasp Harry into his arms and ravish his curvy body.  
  
"I was getting lonely upstairs all by myself," Harry said, blushing shyly.  
  
Draco gazed into those emerald green eyes briefly and said, without looking away, "Gentlemen, could you please leave us," with no change of expression.  
  
Harry smiled gently, watching the workers leave their things and exit the lounge, groaning that the 'show' was over, giving them the privacy Draco had demanded so coolly.  
  
"Do people always do what you tell them to do?" Harry asked quietly, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.  
  
Draco deigned not to answer, instead wrapping a hand around Harry's waist and pulled him closer to him. Jagged notes were played as Harry's body was dragged across the keys, standing between Draco's dress pant clad legs.  
  
He said nothing as he laid his head against Harry's stomach, and shocked, Harry could only lay his hands gently in Draco's baby soft hair. Crumpling his fingers, he played with the soft tresses before Draco suddenly looked up into Harry's eyes. Harry knew what he wanted, and knew he would forever give Draco what his own body craved.  
  
"I guess so," he whispered before he lost all thought completely.  
  
His body was shifted into the top of the piano, and Draco now stood between Harry's splayed legs. The white terry robe belt was quickly undone, revealing his bare, tan chest and midnight black boxers. He stayed still while Draco honored his body, his silver eyes trailing over every inch of his displayed skin, loving the feel of the visual caress he was receiving.  
  
Draco leaned upwards, needing the feel of those soft lips against his, but was denied access to the warmth he had been seeking. Instead, Harry evaded his questing mouth, and latched his lips onto Draco's neck, suckling needily, sighing at the taste of the slightly salty sheen.  
  
"Draco..." Harry moaned, his hands fumbling as they tried to unbutton Draco's white dress shirt. Giving up, he could only lay his back against the smooth, glossy black wood of the piano, concentrating on the feel of Draco's hard body pressing between his legs. When Draco unclasped the zipper of his own trousers, he yelped at the sudden feel of Draco's exposed member rubbing along the silk of his boxers, exciting his own cock into hardness.  
  
"Yes...yes..." Draco whispered, running a single hand down Harry's chest while the other lowered the boxers to the floor. Leaning forward he trailed his lips down Harry's neck, nipping the skin between his teeth, before his tongue played with the delicate brown nipples. Draco couldn't seem to restrain himself as he memorized the velvet hardness of Harry's skin.  
  
Suddenly, Harry arched off the piano deck as a warm mouth enveloped his member, the tongue playing fitfully while Draco's hands grasped his hips and legs, spreading them for his intruding fingers. He didn't hear or recognize the quick spell Draco whispered, lubricating his fingers and preparing Harry for his entrance.  
  
"Hurry, Draco," Harry whimpered. "I need you inside of me. I need you now," he demanded.  
  
"Yes," Draco growled, his one last coherent thought before he plunged into the welcoming warmth of Harry's body.  
  
The piano clanged sharply at the jutting bodies arching against its cool ivory keys, and each ignored the harsh sounds, instead concentrating on the pants and gasps they elicited from each other.  
  
Harry mewled love words, desperately searching for completion, while Draco prolonged the sweet ecstasy, retreating slowly before plummeting in deeply into Harry's body.  
  
They cried out each other's names together as one as they each climaxed, blissfully ignorant of the eyes that watched them together.  
  
--------------------  
  
A/N: Hey, I said more sex, and there it is. I just got my copy of Pretty Woman back, woo! I realized I put the beginning chapters dreadfully out of order, but I don't want to change it – it makes it more of my own work than not :-)  
  
TBC... 


	7. Operation: Shop till you Drop

**Title**: Pretty Man (Walking down the Street)  
  
**Name**: SMalfoy  
  
**Pairings**: HP/DM  
  
**Spoilers:** Pretty Woman  
  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters (J.K Rowling does), nor do I own any rights to the movie plot. But I am responsible for a lot of other meaningless stuff in it.

**Note**: This is for Driven To Insanity, who wouldn't stop bugging me till I finally posted the chapter.   
  
--------------------  
  
**Chapter 7  
**  
_Operation: Shop till you drop  
_  
"Headmaster, I found them together last night," a cool voice said from the fireplace in Dumbledore's quarters.  
  
"What were they doing?" he asked with his fingers steepled together in thought.  
  
"Uh...well...they were quite intimate," the smoothly cultured voice replied.  
  
"Does Malfoy care for this boy?" Dumbledore questioned sharply.  
  
"I would say so, sir."  
  
"Then keep a lookout posted, I want to know every move this boy makes, and if he can be used," Dumbledore said, his eyes locking into that of the others.  
  
"Of course, sir."  
  
"We shall approach him when the time is right, and perhaps he will be of great use to us."  
  
"Yes, Headmaster. Whatever you wish."  
  
--------------------  
  
Sudden sunlight blindingly entered the room, and Harry groaned, flipping the pillow over his head.  
  
"Wake up, darling," Draco said, smoothing his hand along the silky skin of Harry's back.  
  
"I don't wanna," he mumbled, his eyes squinting together tightly.  
  
Draco flipped the down filled cream pillow off of Harry's delightfully mussed head, his fingers slipping through the silky darkness. Fearing Harry was about to slip back into the world of unconsciousness, he stopped brushing his fingers through Harry's hair and casually flipped the boy over onto his back.  
  
"Argh," Harry yelped in surprise, throwing an arm over his eyes.  
  
"Come on Harry, wake up for a moment." Draco said softly, leaning down to lick Harry's collarbone.  
  
"No," Harry pouted.  
  
"Well, here, I want you to take this, and if anyone gives you trouble using it, tell them to contact me," Draco instructed, slipping the plastic credit card into Harry's numb fingers.  
  
"What do you want me to do with it?" Harry asked, his head still filled with wonderful thoughts of sleep.  
  
"Why shop of course. You know, I'm surprised you only bought one suit yesterday," Draco commented.  
  
"It just wasn't as much fun as I thought it was going to be," Harry murmured, looking away from Draco's captivating silver eyes.  
  
"Why?" he asked softly.  
  
"Because they were mean to me," he mumbled.  
  
"_Mean _to you?" Draco asked, shocked.  
  
"I went into a store and they refused to help me," Harry sniffled, still hurt by the condescending stares of the workers at the store.  
  
Draco was silent for a moment before getting up and reaching for the phone next to the bed.  
  
"Mary...this is Mr. Malfoy...please tell Pettigrew I will be in the office later." With no other words, he hung up the phone and lifted Harry into his arms, leading the way to the shower.  
  
"What are you doing Draco?" Harry purred, wrapping his arms around his lover's neck.  
  
"Taking a shower, and then going shopping of course," Draco stated, as if it were obvious. Which it had been.  
  
"Oh...well, that's nice."  
  
--------------------  
  
They stepped out of the dark limousine into the bright sunlight, Harry hesitantly tugging down the white cut-off shirt revealing a bit of his tan washboard stomach. He rubbed his damp palms over his tight jeans, trying to remain calm but barely suppressing the urge to flee.  
  
"It's okay, calm down Harry," Draco instructed with an amused grin.  
  
Harry nodded obediently.  
  
"And get rid of your gum," Draco insisted.  
  
Harry obligingly spit out his gum onto the sidewalk. He blushed after he noticed the disgusted stares he attracted.  
  
"I can't believe you just did that," Draco said with a disbelieving laugh, holding the glass door open for Harry to enter. Harry just shrugged and smiled.  
  
As they entered, a slightly bald man walked towards them, his suit cleanly pressed and of costly caliber, his shoes shined, and his tie firmly in place. "Hello, my name is Tom Jones. What can I help you gentlemen with today?" he asked exuberantly, his sharp eyes taking in the outrageously expensive suit the man was wearing and the wallet in his hand.  
  
"I'm Draco Malfoy, and we are here to find a brand new wardrobe for my friend here," Draco began, his arm wrapped around Harry's shoulders.  
  
"Well, I think we can do that," the man replied, smiling.  
  
"Do you think you have anything as beautiful Harry?" Draco asked with a small smile as Harry blushed faintly.  
  
"Yes, of course..." Tom stumbled to a halt. "I mean, no!" he blushed slightly at the eyebrow the blonde haired man raised. "What I mean is, we have things that will be as beautiful as he wants them to be, that is the answer," he answered, trying to save the sale.  
  
"Of course," Draco purred. "Well, we will be spending an obscene amount of money in here, and I want the best treatment possible," he commanded, his hand stroking the soft skin of Harry's shoulder blade.  
  
"Mary, Nina, Louise! Come, we must find some suitable clothes for Mr. Harry here," Tom cried out, money signs flashing in his dark eyes.  
  
As Harry was led to the couch, numerous shirts, pants, and socks thrown in his direction, Draco returned to the phone, watching with amused eyes as Harry was shown a comfort he had never known before – people actually bowing in humbleness before him.  
  
"So, when you say obscene, are we talking about a dirty obscene or a _really_ offensive obscene?" Tom asked with a winning smile behind Draco's large form.  
  
"I'd say _really _offensive," he replied absently.  
  
"Oh, I like this guy," he said with a laugh, turning away to frolic back towards Harry, who was trying on a nice red fedora.  
  
As Harry picked out the clothes he enjoyed, he held it up for Draco's inspection, who gave either a faint nod or a grimace to show his like or dislike. Harry twirled and pirouetted in front of the admiring silver gaze before Draco sadly had to leave the enjoyable adventure.  
  
"Now, Mr. Jones, he is allowed to buy anything he wants. There is a 25,000 cap on this card, if Harry goes over the limit, call me and I will revert you to another account. Is that acceptable?"  
  
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy! That is absolutely terrific," Tom cried. He seemed to be having an enjoyable heart attack as he was speaking, shivers wracking his body.  
  
"I believe some major sucking up is in order," Draco also said softly, his eyes on the grinning face of his lover.  
  
"Okay then...well, when I first saw you, I knew you were a force to be reckoned with-" he started before Draco cut him off.  
  
"No, not me, Mr. Jones. _Him_," he punctuated.  
  
"Oh...right then..." he trailed off before whirling away. "So, ladies and gents, how is everything coming along?"  
  
"Perfectly!" Harry cried, laughing as he pointed to another shirt he liked.  
  
Draco walked towards him after he finished up his latest phone call, and leaned down towards his ear as the ladies helping him gave him some room.  
  
"Harry, I have to go to the office now. I want you to enjoy yourself, darling," he murmured into Harry's ear, eliciting shivers of delight.  
  
"You sure you don't want to stay? The undergarments are next," he said with a salacious grin, teasing the blonde curls at the base of Draco's neck.  
  
"Tonight, you can model for me darling," he whispered, his voice low and throbbing.  
  
"Okay Draco. Tonight then," Harry replied, his eyes promising untold delights. He doubted Draco even noticed the endearments he had used; Harry could feel his heart warming.  
  
--------------------  
  
Harry continued on with his shopping, pleasantly surprised at the extra amount of care he was being given. Tom ordered pizza and gave him flutes of champagne while a young man knelt at his feet, different pairs of shoes adorning the new socks he had purchased.  
  
He noticed the tie the boy was wearing, a light peach color with stars and swirls mixing pleasantly. "Ohh, that tie," he said, directing the two men's attention to it. "Draco would love that tie," he said, smiling.  
  
"The tie, the tie...give him the tie," Tom instructed the boy eagerly.  
  
"He would just die if he saw this," Harry said, grinning wildly as he wrapped the silk between the fingers.  
  
"Well, anything for Mr. Malfoy," Tom said, amused at the eager expression on Harry's face.  
  
--------------------  
  
Harry finally left the store hours later that afternoon, outfitted in a new white suit with gleaming white shoes to accompany the outfit, his smile blinding. His arms were weighted down with a few various hatboxes and suit bags.  
  
While he was walking down the center of the sidewalk, whistling a jaunty tune, he noticed the store he had tried to purchase a suit from last night. He walked inside, grinning from ear to ear. He strode directly past one of the newer workers to one of the men that had worked there the day before.  
  
"Hi, I believe I met you yesterday," Harry began, circling the man who looked a bit dazed and confused.  
  
"Uh, I'm sorry sir, I don't believe so," the man replied, his eyebrows drawn together in dismay.  
  
"No, I remember. I came in here yesterday looking for a suit, and you refused to help me," he reminded the man softly.  
  
The man gaped at the change that had taken place – not to mention the numerous bags that filled the boy's hands, and the hands of a carrier behind him. He could feel an unemployment axe aiming directly at his neck.  
  
"You work on commission right?" Harry asked the shell shocked man.  
  
"Yes..." the man said quietly.  
  
"That was a _big_ mistake," Harry gloated gleefully, before turning towards the shop exit. "I'm sorry; I must be on my way now. I have some more shopping to do," and with that left the shop in a flurry of activity.  
  
--------------------  
  
When he entered the hotel later that evening, he smiled charmingly at the manager, Mr. Lockhart, who looked pleased to see such a drastic change have occurred. He pretended not to notice the admiring stares, instead smiling inwardly and gazed straight ahead.  
  
_Draco would be so proud of me_, Harry thought, before stepping into the open elevator. He smiled delightfully at the gaping elevator worker.  
  
Entering the Penthouse, he tipped the man who had deigned to carry many of his purchases, and flopped down on the couch in exhaustion._ It's hard work looking this good_.  
  
He was so pleased with his shopping excursion; he thought he would order dinner that night for Draco...and show off his new tie.  
  
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A/N: I know it's not as long as the other chapters, but I promise I'll make it up in the next chapter...besides...more sex in Ch. 8 coming up!


End file.
